Poems and Pancakes stirs creative pot

May 14, 2013

Stephanie Pruitt-Gaines makes pancakes during Poems and Pancakes, an occasional brunch she hosts with her husband, Al, at their home. 'I think some people come for pancakes and some people come for the poetry,' she said. / Photos by Shelley Mays / The Tennessean

Written by

Jennifer Justus

The Tennessean

Stephanie Pruitt-Gaines and Al Gaines talk with family and friends during their Poems and Pancakes brunch on April 20, which drew nearly 100 people. / Shelley Mays / The Tennessean

Ode to Swine

By Stephanie Pruitt-GainesWe have deserted you. Way out of no way on a plate. Used to be immune to trichinosis. Doses of fatback swim in my veins. Passed down from Grandpappy’s Pappy. Pleased to have meat in hand. We are the inventors of waste not. I do not want to smile so big in the mornings when I hear my fiancé shuffle in the stainless steel kitchen, marinating my air with thick cut, skillet sizzling, pour the drippings in the old coffee can, goodness, because I want to wear my red dress this summer and feel the blood flow unfettered through me. But oooh, the smell woos. Just one lick. I won’t even chew. Me with my fist in the air, natural hair: Revolutionaries must resist pork chops. Revolutionaries must resist pork chops. Revolutionaries must resist pork chops. This is the pressure that attacks. Somebody flush these arteries. Wash us all of our cellular memory of days when hog’s maws and hoe cakes were not haute couture, darling you simply must go down to that soul food establishment in the ghetto, delicacies. Unclean of the world unite! Raise your hooves. Shake an unscaled tail fin. Kiss it up to God and go. I mean don’t stop get it get it and go. Because if we always contemplated cleanliness before letting things enter our bodies, half of us would never have been conceived. You, our dear fodder we ate inside out. In a blanket, in some beans, a simmering pot of collard greens, smoked in a pit with apple in mouth, bologna, shoulder, fried rinds and souse. From your sty to Bed Stuy, we progress, but never forget the greasy, suck our fingers, thank you Lord for this meal, sustenance.

ABOUT THE NASHVILLE COOKS SERIES

Cooking is nothing to be afraid of! It's easier and cheaper than you would imagine, and more healthy than eating out or buying prepared foods. In our Nashville Cooks series, we visit the home of one family each month who will teach us how to prepare a traditional family meal that's healthful, inexpensive, easy and made from scratch. At each session we put a meal on the table, but we also reconnect with the fun of cooking.

The relationship between food and poetry has long been a natural one. As Joyce Carol Oates put it: “If food is poetry, is not poetry also food?”

In those matters of being fed — physically and emotionally — Stephanie Pruitt-Gaines and Al Gaines certainly know how to do both.

For this month’s Nashville Cooks, the couple invited us to Poems and Pancakes, an occasional brunch at their home that brings together friends from various pockets of their lives — work, play, pasts — with stacks of homemade pancakes, fruit toppings and side dishes of egg casseroles and scones. The coffee and mimosas flow as does the conversation before the group gathers to hear a poetry reading by a special guest.

“I think some people come for pancakes and some people come for the poetry,” said Stephanie, a poet herself and advocate for the arts. “I think everyone ends up enjoying both.”

When we arrived, all corners of the house buzzed with energy. Stephanie worked in the kitchen pouring batter onto a griddle, filling the rooms with the soft smell of leisurely mornings.

Al directed people toward the mimosa and Bellini bar on the screened porch, and in the dining room, every inch of the table had been arranged in a mosaic of bowls, trays, plates. Jewelry designers, accountants, musicians gathered around it, balancing their breakfasts on one hand or in their laps.

“Food does that a lot of times,” Stephanie said. “It’s a way to pull together different types of people, ideas and perspectives.”

Food for thought

Stephanie learned to cook from her mother, who often made meals for their large family and friends.

“I found out after I got married,” she said, “that I didn’t know how to make pancakes for just two or three people.”

They’d end up with a stack of 35 instead.

She doesn’t measure or follow a recipe, so as she mixed and added ingredients, the batter would grow. Stephanie and Al would incorporate what they had on hand to create different flavors.

“Cooking is just a curious thing,” Al said.

“What can I do with this?” she added. “It starts with a question.”

And so does poetry.

“The way I write poetry and read poetry — it starts with a question,” she said. “It’s always a journey, an exploration.”

Stephanie began writing in the sixth grade, and she found herself drawn to the intensity of poetry. For many years, she didn’t believe she could live off that work alone. But later in life, she went back to school to earn her Master of Fine Arts in creative writing from Vanderbilt University. She also started a community called No Starving Artist to help others make a living with their art.

Art, she says, goes beyond even the poems and pancakes with its ability to create community and encourage deep thinking about important cultural issues.

For example, her food culture has often been focused on love and conversation and pleasure, she said, where she’s felt emotionally and socially healthy. But lately, Stephanie and Al have been considering health.

Stephanie has been working with local author Alice Randall to explore connections between art and health. The women created the Women’s Health Empowerment Summit in Selma, Ala., that included a screening of the film “Soul Food Junkies” and creative writing around body image.

“It was an awesome opportunity to see art in action,” she said. “When you engage with the arts, it takes you out of your comfort zone. It’s really inviting people to step out of their norm.”

Stephanie also has been working on a series of poems called “Sugar” to explore the question of sugar attachment.

As for Poems and Pancakes, it can be an entry point — and an exercise in sugar moderation — for many.

“It becomes a longer conversation we have with a lot of our friends,” Stephanie said. “To explore how art engagement can be part of the solution.”

New discoveries

Poems and Pancakes has taken place at Stephanie and Al’s about eight times, and it has grown from about 20 friends in 2011 to nearly 100 this spring.

Every occasion brings together old and new friends, traditional and experimental recipes, art and new discoveries.

A woman in her 50s, who Stephanie has known for more than a decade, bought her first book of poetry after hearing Marcus Jackson, a poetry professor at Middle Tennessee State University, read his work.

“She’d never really been to poetry reading,” Stephanie said. “But she loved us and loved pancakes.”

Maya Angelou's Fried Apples

Quarter and core apples, but do not peel. Melt butter in large frying pan, and place apples skin side down in pan. Sprinkle with brown sugar and add water. Add cinnamon and nutmeg, cover and cook very slowly over low heat until tender and candied. Eat hot and over pancakes if desired.

Adapted recipe from Hallelujah! The Welcome Table: A Lifetime of Memories and Recipes by Maya Angelou (Random House 2004).

2. Sautee chopped onions and peppers in a large stock pot with olive oil until onions start to become translucent (on medium-high heat).

3. Add all other chopped veggies and garlic.

4. When the zucchini softens and spinach is wilted, add siracha, basil, rosemary, oregano and paprika. Continue to cook until well incorporated, then allow to cool.

5. With a whisk or stick blender, mix egg whites and whole eggs, and cream briskly until it nearly doubles in volume.

6. In lightly-oiled casserole dishes, assemble veggies on bottom, a layer of mixed Cheddar and Parmesan, and pour egg mixture on top. (I am typically able to divide the ingredients and fill three 9-by-13 pans.)